DeadEye
by ErronMcCormick
Summary: My blatant knock off of Deadpool
1. Intro

Hi there! My name is Erron McCormick. I'm a huge nerd, and an even bigger comic book fan. What's the difference right? Anyway, I'm going to let you know right now, this is an OC story, so if you dont like those, then you might as well just move on now.

Now that that's taken care of, my story is basically a knock off of a certain blockbuster movie character played by Ryan Reynolds. Which, by way, probably was NEVER done before right?

I chose to write this story, because quite frankly, I relate heavily to THAT character. Always using humor to deflect from, well, anything.

So, if you have made it this far, and are, for some reason, still interested in this story, then I hope you enjoy DeadEye. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter One

Hi there! My name is Benjamin Black, but my enemies just call me DeadEye. Secret identities, cool right? As you know, based on my authors stupid foreword, this is my story. So, I guess I should probably tell you about my "Origin". Dont worry, my mouth doesnt get sewn shut and I dont get a bunch of powers clumsily written in. So, here we go! Cue transitional sequence!

It all started the day I was born.Seriously. I was born this way, and this isnt some shitty Lady Gaga song. Nope, I was born a freak. I cant say the "M" word because its copyrighted.

My "powers" didnt manifest until I was 25 though. Something about being in my prime when I stopped aging. Lazy writing. I also gained the ability to not die. Like, at all. I remember I fell down a flight of stairs, broke three bones, and they snapped back into place. Which, kind of hurt more than the whole breaking them in the first place.

Anyway, backstories!

I was just a guy. Granted, I was a guy who joined the military at 17, got 28 confirmed kills, got dishonorably discharged because I "have problems with authority" and isnt a "team player". So, what does a disgraced degenerate who is really good at killing people do for work? If you guessed "joining an organization of mercenaries" then you are incorrect! Wrong character! I actually became a hitman for the Italian Mafia.

And the KGB.

And the Irish Republic Army.

And the CIA.

And the Yakuza.

And pretty much anyone who had the amount of money I charged for my services. Which, honestly, I'd do it for free, but even though I cant die, starving isnt very fun.

And then one day, everything changed. Cue dramatic music.

All of the criminal syndicates decided to join as one cohesive, organized crime master race. They called themselves The Coalition. How stupid is that? Anyway, I guess they decided that I was too dangerous to stay alive, and considering each separate organization paid me to kill someone from another organization, it just became awkward for them. So, killing me was on their to-do list. And THATS when I realized I had powers!

Cue flashback. (Are you tired of the cues? I am, but I dont think Erron knows how else to transition between scenes.)

Okay, Ben, I'm gonna take over now. I'm the author here. *ahem*

Benjamin Black sat at the bar inside a dirty little establishment in downtown New York. He was using his Bowie knife to carve a smiley face into the bar, to the bartenders dismay. He was a relatively normal looking man. 6 foot 2. Blonde undercut haircut. The television caught his attention for a second when it said "Abnormal Genome Syndrome affecting more people as a man who suddenly developed pyrokineses and caused a gas station to explode, wounding 2 and killing 3."

"Genome Syndrome? You know theres going to be some super villian with one of those names" Ben said to himself. Shut up Ben. No foreshadowing!

"Sorry"

"Who are you talking to?" The bartender asked, while cleaning a glass with a white rag. What a cliche. Ben looked at him and smiled.

"The author of this book" The bartender gave him a deadpan look. Then he looked concerned. Ben followed his gaze, over his own shoulder and saw three men in suits. One Russian, One Japanese, and one Italian.

"Lemme guess. You're upset that you cant hear the tv because of my talking? That's what usually happens in scenes like this" Ben said matter of factly.

The men walked up and surrounded Ben, who was still in his seated position. The Italian man spoke first.

"You gotta come wit us DeadEye. The boss wants to see's ya" Ben smiled.

"But The Sopranos is on next, and I know that YOU wouldn't miss that."

The Russian man put his hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben looked at the hand and sighed.

"And he JUST cleaned this glass" Ben said. The Russian man looked confused.

"What gla-" He stated to say, but Ben cut him off but snatching the glass out of the bartenders hand and smashing it in the Russians face. He stepped back, screaming, as he clutched at the glass shards in his eyes and his face."

The Japanese man went to grab at Ben, but he side stepped him, grabbed him by the back of the head and smashed his face off the bar. Hard enough to shatter the edge of the wood. Ben then bowed to the mans, maybe dead, maybe unconscious body. Then turned to the Italian man.

"Yaknow, I never understood why groups of people only ever attack one at a time." Ben shrugged. "Anyway, I digress. Listen, I'm gonna make you an offer you cant refuse" Ben said in a Marlon Brando impression.

"And what's dat?"

"You can either leave, and we just pretend like nothing happened, or I kill you." Ben said with a smile.

"I'm afraid I can leave heres witout you."

"I respect your choice. It shows guts. No, literally." Ben said then he grabbed his bowie knife and sliced up the mans stomach.

"That was fun. But now I want some-" Ben stopped mid sentence as he felt something prick his neck. He reached back, and pulled out a dart. Confused, he turned and saw the bartender holding a dart gun.

"Oh, this is the part where I bla-" Ben started saying. Then it all faded to black.


End file.
